


Cave

by stateofintegrity



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24411415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stateofintegrity/pseuds/stateofintegrity
Summary: A small addition to the episode C*A*V*E
Relationships: Maxwell Klinger/Charles Emerson Winchester III
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	Cave

He wasn’t angry. Not exactly. After all, guard duty was one of his (too) many duties and this was his shift. It just would have been nice if someone had acknowledged that he’d spent hours being screamed at on the phone prior to the bug out, then packed all the important papers and the Colonel’s luggage and the tack for the Colonel’s horse, driven the jeep, given blood - and all without a thank you, a “good job,” or a sandwich! Now it was just him and a black stretch of path and the rifle he hated (he hated its weight, its smell, the training he’d undergone to use it and its power to maim and kill most of all) under the moon, mortars bursting in the distance. With that kind of noise, a tank could sneak up on him!

By 3 AM, Klinger was so tired that his teeth hurt; his thoughts had become patchy. When another corpsman came to relieve him, he shambled off toward the lean to where Sophie was being temporarily stabled. Mortars made her sweat and shiver; he’d rub her down before seeking a quiet corner to doze in. Though a city mouse, Klinger had learned much of horse care under Colonel Sherman T. Potter’s tutelage; he shined the mare’s coat and talked gentle nonsense to her until they were both calm.

He knew Potter expected him to shelter in the caves with everyone else, but retiring inside would mean stepping over outstretched forms, weaving past beds of wounded, their IV tubing like vines. Turning his coat into a bundle for his head, he sacked out in the cold grass.

Charles found him there watching the stars and knelt beside him, taking his head into his lap. 

“Missed me bad, huh?”

“Bad enough. Don’t you know better than to make pillows out of dewy knolls?” 

“Stop reading me poetry.” It won him the laugh he’d wanted. 

“Cease inspiring me to do so with your fine, flying fingers and flashing eyes.” He tangled his own fingers in his hair. “With your soft hair.”

Klinger made happy, sleepy sounds under his touch. “I love it when you play with my hair.”

“You love any kind of touch. I think you were a cat in another life.”   


Klinger yawned. “A scaredy cat, maybe. The only way,” he yawned again. “The only way I get through guard duty at all is reminding myself that  _ you’re _ one of the things I’m supposed to be keeping safe”

Charles leaned over him, kissed his forehead. “Go to sleep, Max. I’ll watch over you now.”

The Corporal was out before he finished speaking. Before them, the sound of artillery boomed away like a distant storm. At their backs, the sounds of the displaced 4077th made a pleasing susurrus. The only sound Charles cared about, however, was the sleepy sigh of Klinger’s breathing as they waited for the dawn.

End! 

  
  
  



End file.
